


The True Price of Wealth

by LotharWinchester



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotharWinchester/pseuds/LotharWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written using the prompt “If I had a dime for every time someone called me___, ___, and/or____ i’d be a millionaire.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The True Price of Wealth

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i don't own any marvel characters or anything related to marvel. this is just a fanfic. 
> 
> I wrote this a few years ago when I was struggling with some personal problems. this is also seen on Tumblr (http://naughtylokiconfessionstories.tumblr.com/post/62473160045/the-true-price-of-wealth#notes).

He had hoped this simple spell would alleviate her suffering.

He had watched her daily interactions for a few months now and her lack of self confidence oozed from her frame as she stood behind the counter at one of the many quaint coffee shops. She slumped down across the counter if she wasn’t serving costumers with her head gently pressed against it. He had come to learn she had been stabbed in the leg with a replica trench knife about a year and a half ago and inferred that to be the source of her poor posture at first.

Then he saw her walk home after closing up. As soon as the key dropped into her pocket, she was off in a cocky strut. He loosely shadowed.

His long dark hair covered his eyes as he waved his hand down his body to hide his normal attire.  _Midgardians._ He fingered the small blue stone in his pocket as she slowed to a stop at a intersection.   
No one stopped at the cross walk and it took another ten minutes for her to get to the other side of the street.

She waited and leaned on the small graffitied bus shelter. She already had the two dollar fair crumpled in her hand as she took in her surroundings. He knew that look.

An older white haired man painstakingly made his way up the small hill towards her stop and tensed as a speeding car flew past.

_“Dyke!”_ His initial fury redirected to the car full of college boys and a lone girl in the passenger seat. It had been the eighth time she’d been called that today.(mostly by customers) The word was over accentuated as it traveled through the air and left a pained expression on the young woman’s face.

His mouth had started to form the incantation before his mind fully processed what was happening.  _“…May the word that gives you pain inflate your wealth.”_

The bus slowed and the front hydraulics hissed to make the bus lower to the level of the sidewalk. His long jean covered legs made it easy to catch up to the bus before it could move away from the stop. The bus driver eyed him with trepidation, almost as if he could see through the illusion spell. He gave the man a fleeting glace as she shoved the exact change into the coin slot and took in the sight of the nearly empty bus.

He sat across the aisle from her. More of her scars seemed to emerge in the dim bus lighting. Her dark brown hair had been cut nearly to her head and it showed the two long scars that marred the side of her head. One traveled from behind her ear down along her spinal column and disappeared underneath the collar of her work shirt. The other started from the other and followed the center of her skull to the top and ended right before her hairline.

Her left hand roughly pulled the yellow cord signalling the bus driver to stop. She stood and briefly met his gaze with a soft smile that did not meet her eyes. She surprised him when she uttered “See you tomorrow.” in her soft shaky voice.

* * *

 

Loki sighed heavily as the weeks passed. He had remained under the Avenger’s and Odin’s radar as he monitored his spell’s progress. She had been referred to with derogatory slurs every day. In twenty one days, his spell had left about $10.50 in a mason jar underneath her sink.

She hadn’t discovered it yet, which was a slight downside, but as he sat and pretended to read a copy of a newspaper he’d fabricated a mother with her two children in tow asked to speak to the manager.

The young woman nodded and glided to the back to grab her “polite to your face” manager; a young man about three years older than her who looked like he didn’t actually need his position like she did. 

“I refuse to be served by  _that_ …” Loki folded the newspaper in half and placed it on the table. She had come in three times in the last week or so and said this. “She’s an abomination and will rot in Hell.” was usually the followup today, however, she chose to include an extra jab. “Faggot.”

The little boy in her arms whispered the word several times and Loki quickly thumbed the blue stone to add the word to his initial spell. He was unimpressed by the growing list and more change filled the jar to accommodate the last twenty one days.

Her manager turned to her after serving the client and told her to take the rest of the day off. The undertone in his voice reflected a hint of being fired if she did not.

Her tears held until she got off the bus in front of her apartment building; an old 3 floor Victorian house that had been sectioned off to make one apartment per level. He noticed that the yellow paint peeled beside the door when she bent down to pick up her keys. He could tell she was crying.

“Ma'am.” Loki smiled as he picked her wallet up off the steps, “You dropped this.”

She quickly wiped her eyes and took the elongated wallet from his hand. “Thank you.”

He smiled as he unlocked the door, “I’m watching the place for Hal while he’s in the hospital.” It was true. Hal had had an..  _unfortunate_ free fall down all three flights of stairs two days prior. It was easy to convince the man that he, a prince of Asgard, was a third cousin that he had known his entire life.

“Oh.” She shivered at the mention of her landlord’s name. He couldn’t blame her, “Would you like to stop in for coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be great, thank you.”

She flicked the black knob on her stove and set the kettle one by the time he had come in and set his shoes by the door.

“Is maple tea okay?” He smiled as he sat in the beat up brown leather chair in her living room.

“Yes.” His fingers flicked across the stone and the list appeared in his peripheral vision. He had added names that he had found in a short stint of research. twenty eight names and their variations flashed before the dissipated when she entered the room.

“Here you are.” Loki smiled in thanks. He could feel the spell trying to keep up with his latest list. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Loki” He smiled after he put his cup down on the small scuffed coffee table.

“I know you know mine by now.” she smiled softly as she unpinned her name tag. His hand went to his cup and he took another sip. They chatted for an hour, mostly about her, before he decided he needed to leave.

“I have to go sort out Hal’s rental agreements.” her smile faded as he slipped into his shoes, “Don’t worry, i’m not going to hound you for rent like he probably did.”

* * *

 

Day by day she came back to the apartment after shift at the coffee shop. More jars had come and been filled every other day until he was sure she had noticed them by now. five, then ten, and now she was on her twentieth.

Dark circles had formed under her eyes after she had lost her job at the coffee shop and taken a night shift job at the local Wal-Mart and continued to work at convenience store on main street. At the end of each month, a white envelope would be tape to his door with what ever portion of the rent she could produce with a promise to pay it in full as soon as possible. The more jars that were filled, the more pain he could read on her face.

He kept Hal away for almost a year. He could see some of the pain fade from her face when she greeted him on her way into her apartment at 8 a.m. or when they had small tea times Wednesdays that she had off.

But she still hadn’t noticed them.

They had filled the cabinet under the sink, two drawers, and the bottom shelf of the pantry.

Another three long years past until she finally noticed.

* * *

 

“Loki!!” his emerald eyes met her glassy brown orbs. He stood and followed her into the apartment. He tried to ignore the rope burn on her neck as he closed the door quietly. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into her living room where the jars had been neatly stacked. “Did you do this?”

Silence dominated the room as she uncapped each jar. Some had filled with change while others contained a mixture of bills and coins. “I know this was you.” She smiled as he held up a small black stone.

“When I met you four years ago, this stone was bright blue.” He frowned as he placed the stone on the coffee table, “Every time someone said a derogatory name on a list, ten cents dropped into a mason jar that had started underneath your sink.” He smirked as he slowly waved his hand up from his feet and over his head. “You plight touched me my little Midgardian.” He watched her body relax as he moved forward to help dump out the jars. “I only told you this today because of what happened last month.” He motioned to the scars underneath her long sleeve shirt and the rope burn on her neck. “Your life is a gift not to be wasted.”

She embraced him then which stopped him in the middle of his good bye speech. “I must return to Asgard. The spell will not break as long as you do not break the stone.”

She nodded once and released him. “Good bye Loki.”

When he was gone, the young woman sat and went through all of the jars she had collected. $2881 and twenty cents had been piled on the floor.

She held the stone with her. Everyday until the day she died.


End file.
